The loss of a child, through my journey of grief and mental health.

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My Story

So this is about me, a mother, but a mother with no child. A journey through life that was not chosen, but forced upon me on 14th December 2014.

27th November 2013 – A day that would define me as a person, the day my beautiful William Oscar Mead came into this world, also my birthday, it was meant to be.

14th December 2014 – A day that would change me as a person, the day my beautiful William Oscar Mead became an angel, this was not meant to be.

Welcome to my blog, a mother without a child. I guess this blog and the posts are my thoughts, an inner dialogue with myself. Perhaps the ability to be able to write what I’m thinking and how I’m feeling and read it back to myself, almost makes those thoughts real, because nothing about my situation feels real.

William or Grumpus as he was affectionately known died on Sunday 14th December 2014. Grumpus had been under the weather the previous week, he’d had his booster on the Monday, was teething and had a cough but by the Friday he’d gone off his food and his temperature had soared whilst at nursery so we took him straight to the doctors, where his temperature was taken, it was 40.1c. They checked for a rash, nothing, checked his ears, fine, checked his throat, fine, listened to his chest, clear. The lack of these ‘red flag’ symptoms meant we were sent home despite the alarmingly high temperature and told to give Grumpus Calpol for the temperature and Nurofen for the discomfort. “Don’t worry it’s nothing grisly” he said, “he’ll be better in 48 hours”.

The photo that earned William his nickname, ‘Grumpus’

On the face of it that might seem ok, just a winter cough, reaction to the booster, teething, all of which we accepted, after all, we weren’t doctors. Neurotic, over protective, worried and flustered first time parents maybe, but not doctors.

So, arriving home William had Calpol and Nurofen and lots of cuddles, his temperature soon started coming down so he was a little more comfortable, exhausted and tired he went to bed. William was stirring quite a lot during the evening so I went in to give him some more Calpol, Nurofen and cuddles. I sat on the floor with my legs crossed, cradling him, he soon settled and fell asleep in my arms. Snuggled in close to my neck, held so close so he felt warm, safe and secure. There I sat for 3 and a half hours, he stirred again and was trying to stretch, so I placed him back in his cot, put his arm around his favourite reindeer and left him to sleep.

Saturday morning William woke early, not hungry, still with a fever, and lethargic. I knew that my Saturday would be spent giving him sips of water and having lots of cuddles with my favourite little person. As the day wore on, I saw no improvement, so a little worried I called 111, I explained the situation and was advised it wasn’t a medical emergency so he would ask an out of hours doctor to call me back, “we are very busy today” the call handler told me, “it might be a few hours before we call you back”.

6.53pm the doctor called back. I had just put William to bed, tucked up in his sleeping bag, and he had just nodded off with his reindeer. I explained the situation including how he had been poorly in the months leading up to today, very thoroughly and succinctly. Explaining that it was now over 24 hours since seeing the doctor, I was concerned there was no improvement, in fact I felt he was worse, he was now vomiting, bile, with no food in his stomach. He was completely lethargic and had no energy, all he wanted to do was sleep and he was in some discomfort. I asked in his professional opinion should he be seen? The doctor said that it was probably a viral infection and would get better without treatment, he was In the best place and that I should leave him be in bed. Although still worried I felt reassured, by the doctor on the Friday, the 111 call handler and now the out of hours doctor, William was asleep, warm and comfortable In bed. I remained on the phone for several minutes with the doctor, myself questioning and the doctor reassuring.

We checked on Grumpus before bed, he was a little unsettled, sat up had a little drink but almost immediately put himself back to sleep. We checked on him through the night and he was ok, asleep, moving around. 5am, he moved around his cot for about 10 minutes, blinking at the camera, he looked, we watched. He had a little drink and went back to sleep. We both thought, brilliant, he seems more alert, in a couple of hours he’ll be sat up babbling to himself that he was hungry and wanted his porridge.

Just after 8 I woke up, William looked asleep and was not stirring, not unusual, he had been exhausted and was probably tired, so I thought I would give him a little more time before stirring him.

I opened his bedroom door slowly so as not to wake him up with a startle. It was dark, I could see him but could not really make his features out. I stroked his cheek it was warm but he didn’t stir, I knelt down and put my arm through the cot bars and stroked his arm, it was cold, I stood, and stroked his side, he was stiff. I opened the curtains as quickly as I could, I took one step to the cot, and I knew he was gone,

We gave William CPR until the paramedics arrived in 3 minutes and 55 seconds when they took over, but there was nothing they could do. My beautiful boy, the love of my life was gone. That’s when the screaming started, until my instincts as mum kicked in, I needed to hold him to take him to hospital, to look after him, that was my job, no-one else. We were taken to the hospital, holding him all the way, where I held him tight apart from when they examined him. I held him until they told me I had to let him go, “where are you taking him” I asked, “the mortuary” the doctor quietly responded. I would take him I told them, so I stood up, holding William still wrapped in his blanket and walked through the hospital guided by the doctor to the mortuary. When I had to put William in the arms of the mortician I think i lost control, I can’t remember, I can’t remember much else from that day. That day passed in a daze of doctors, paediatrician’s, police (because he died at home), rapid response practitioners and people I can’t even remember.

Life as I knew it was over, everything was over, my questions began, why couldn’t they save him? Why William? What was wrong with him? When would he be coming home?

We soon found out from the coroner the preliminary cause of death; abscess of the left upper lung lobe contributing to a pleural empyema. It was soon revealed from his blood tests that he was suffering from an Invasive Streptococcal A Infection, Sepsis. As soon as this was revealed Paul and I had blood tests and chest x-rays to identify whether we had this infection too, we didn’t.

Now that I have explained what happened in William’s last days, what happened in the months leading up to William’s death might make more sense.

At the end of September I took William to the doctor with high temperature, red raw throat and generally unwell. Acute tonsillitis was diagnosed, 5 days of Amoxicillin was prescribed. At the beginning of October, William, by now slightly better but still not right came out in an aggressive pin prick red rash, I knew it wasn’t meningitis but immediately rushed him back to the doctors. Scarlet fever they said, the tonsillitis is part of scarlet fever, William was already on antibiotics so they said carry on with those and it should clear up in a couple of days.

The pin prick rash took days to clear up but William’s throat was better and his appetite had come back, I almost had my little boy back, although I loved the extra cuddles it was good to see him full of energy again. Now with William full of beans he developed a cough, no runny nose, no watery eyes, no temperature, just a cough. After a couple of days it hadn’t cleared up so on the 13th of October I packed William into the car and back to the doctors we went. Just a winter cold I was told, it’ll clear up shortly. William had just started nursery so he’s bound to pick up all sorts they said, something I could understand.

So, 12th November William had had a cough since early October, persistent and had gradually deteriorated which now saw him regularly coughing up sputum and vomiting 2, 3 or 4 times a day. So, off to the doctors we went. I was really concerned. I explained that William had been coughing since early October, continually with no let up and now was vomiting and coughing up sputum. The doctor listened to his chest for a long time and said “I can definitely hear something, but his chest cavity is small so the sounds bounce off each other”. I asked whether antibiotics would be best, she said no, it’ll just be a childhood cold, the vomiting is just because he’s full of sputum. She gave us an inhaler as she recognised his breathing was slightly worse and off we went, again.

21st November, I had seen no improvement with the inhaler so I took William back to the doctors, by this point the nursery had asked us to supply them with a letter to explain that William’s vomiting was due to the cough and not a stomach bug. I went through all the symptoms once more, explained how they had deteriorated, how the inhaler was having no effect, how there is a history of lung disease in the family, but once again we were sent home. Just a cough. Just a cold. Kid’s have so many over the winter time.

So we trundled on, thinking nothing more, we trusted what they said, and William in himself was ok, the cough was a standard part of his day, the vomiting part of his feeding routine, like they said, he was full of phlegm.

We celebrated his first birthday on the 27th November with a lovely cake and lovely friends. Mummy was allowed a glass of wine because it was her birthday too. Sharing our birthdays only cemented how special our bond was and still is.

Happy birthday baby, Happy birthday mummy

Birthday Smiles

We were busy making plans, spending Christmas and New Year in Spain with my family, this required lots of organisation. We’d had the car serviced, the presents were bought, I’d finished work for Christmas, cleaning the house. The weekend that Grumpus died was the weekend before we travelled to Portsmouth to get the ferry. But it was never meant to be. 2 Days before we were due to travel, our lives changed forever.

There was an inquest in Grumpus’ death in June 2015, where we questioned why nothing was done, why we weren’t listened to, why no tests were done, no blood tests, no saliva samples, no further antibiotics, and no chest x-rays, nothing. William died so needlessly in an age where modern-day antibiotics and treatment mean his final cause of death is uncommon.

William has paid the ultimate sacrifice, and we are paying for it for the rest of our lives. I will never accept it, it’s unacceptable, I will never understand it, because it’s not understandable, I can’t see reason with it, because it can’t be rationalised.

Maybe like me, you might read this blog and it might give you some comfort, someone else is going through the same life changing circumstances, experiencing pain that is also indescribable, a life of emptiness, with a million questions. If I can offer support to anyone through this blog that is experiencing the loss of a child, or if you feel you can offer me support then please get in touch.

You are not alone.

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I balled my eyes out reading this 😔 we are getting the money together for you mum dad n i will be paying for the bear and transferring $200 in the next few weeks i will let you know as soon as we are done. Others will still be donatingg to you both to put aside for your bands 😔 i dont know what to say except all these doctors need to be served and off the clinic!!! If they cannot do there job they need to be banned!!!!

My heart is breaking for you. I read this last night & have been upset ever since. I know no words can make it any better, but felt i needed to write so you know people who read this do care. You are so amazing to have written this so clearly & calmly, without blaming the medical services who let William down. You will always be a mummy, with a beautiful son, he’s just waiting for you in heaven. I dont know why God let this happen to you, but i do know that what he leads you to, he will lead you through. I will be praying for you & your family from now on.

What a desperate story, I am so very sorry for what has happened to you and how you have been left with this awful nightmare. William is very beautiful and my heart goes out to you and your family and I am so sorry that all your concerns were missed. What a wonderful mother you are.

We have two dear friends who are working their way through a whole new life following the death of their wonderful 12 year old son, Joe just 2 years ago. The have taught us a huge amount about what parents suffer after the death of a child and continue to be an inspiration to us every single day they get up and carry on. It may well be too early for you but ‘The Compassionate Friends’ group has provided a huge support to them as they have to people within it. I am not sure what country you are based in but look it up and have a read.

Wow, what a story, it is is just horrific. I can feel how wonderful a mother you are and I can feel what a beautiful son you have. William is gorgeous. Two very very dear friends of ours day by day are working through their new life since losing Joe their son just 2 years ago this xmas. Every day is new territory and they teach us and inspire us every day with how they make it through to the next. My heart goes out to you and your partner. When the time is right for you look up ‘The Compassionate Friends’ network in the UK. Sean and Bev have learned, gained a huge amount from others in this nightmare and I know have been able to help others themselves too. Have a read when you feel you can.

Love and compassion to both of you and I bow to you for finding the courage to share your story, show the world the beautiful William and find a way to express your pain.

My heart breaks for you and your husband. I cannot begin to imagine what you are going through but my prayers and deepest condolences are with you. May your beautiful baby boy always live on in your hearts.

I just want to say how deeply sorry I am for you and your husband, such needless loss and pain. I hope that together and with the support of friends and family you emerge stronger and with some hope for the future, whilst cherishing the memories you have of William.

I have young sons too. One has a birthday on 27th November. I remember that day as clearly as you will and, for another reason, I also have a very vivid memory of 14th December. It is heartbreaking to hear what you were going through that day. Dig deep, share the load of grief and try to search for the hope in your future, when you are ready to move on.

Right now, I wish you every success with the inquest. It won’t bring him back but you need answers and accountability. I hope you get that.

I am hardly affected by what I read online, having been desensitised by the daily doses of tragedies that happen all around the world. But I cried when I read your blog. My heart aches for you and for your husband; I am so sorry for your loss of such a beautiful child.
Thank you for sharing your story amidst all your pain.

i am so sorry for your loss. I just can’t believe it and still in tears. I would have never thought this would happen, esp with the medical care we have these days. What a beautiful boy you had and you are so courageous for being so calm and writing down the blog and not blaming the medical staff at all. You did the best you can and the rest is really left at the professional who you trusted. I am very sorry this has happened to your whole family…

I am so sorry for your loss. I read this just bawling. I know your pain, as I have lost a child too. 3 1/2 years ago we gave birth to our second child and he only lived 90 minutes. We love him so much and only got to hold him after he died. Cherish the year you had with your beautiful boy. It was too short but at least you had good times to remember him by. Praying for you and your family in this hard time.

My heart goes out to you. I will surely include you all in my prayers. My son suffers from cough due to the polluted air in china. It came to a point where they had to admit him in hospital. The doctors even told me that he might stop breathing at night. My soul has suffered since then. I can’t even imagine how you feel. God give you and your husband the strength. I’m sure your son is sitting on God’s lap. Stay strong.

I lost my son on the same day in 2000. I luckily had him for 27years. Life does carry on, but with a hole in your heart that never is filled . Even now a wave of unrelenting sadness a yearning for that feel that smell of him hits but you learn to ride it learn to remember the pleasure and happiness you shared . My heart grieves with you , sending strength and love for the dark days xx viv

An awful day for us both. There are so many emotions going round and round. I have so many lovely memories but the awful one of that day resides at the front for the moment, I guess time will push it further back xx

Melissa,
My deepest sympathy on the loss of your beautiful William. I personally know the unimaginable pain of losing a child and there are no adequate words. I hit the like button as a way to support you. I still struggle with that button under these tragic circumstances; please know you are not alone.

I just happened upon your blog and I wanted to let you know how sorry I am for your loss of your baby, and that I am praying for you. What a beautiful boy William was, and your blog alone has made him more than just a memory! ❤ Much love to you.

I spent some time on your blog today, reading most everything you’ve written; and I need to tell you, Melissah, that you had the spark to do something long before you read my post, to do something that will have great impact by starting this blog. In it, you are charting your journey, keeping the memory of your son alive, introducing him to readers who wouldn’t have had the privilege of knowing him without your writing; you are producing a blog that is vulnerable, open, and true, writing that will provide solace to others facing a similar loss, and gently teach those of us who haven’t lost a child so we better understand and and can more meaningfully respond to those who have. Your writing is powerful. clean, and skilled. I admire you.

Thank you for such lovely, kind words. It does mean a great deal to me that my writing has been received well. I didn’t want to hide my thoughts or emotions, i have found in my darkest moments that when reaching out, especially online, few people feel able to express how they really think and feel. This is like my very own ‘open forum’. I’ve never been a ‘writer’ i guess what i write is what i feel, so it just flows…. thank you

I am so sorry. My heart breaks for you. Every word and emotion you expressed is so raw and candid, thank you for sharing. Know that you are not alone and although I am a stranger half way across the world, I am sending you my thoughts and prayers as I am thinking of you, your husband and your beloved angel William aka Grumpus tonight.

I am so so sorry for your loss..your words chill me by on the bone because I have been on your sad Journey for 21 years.. My son Mark William or ” Doober” as we called him died at 7 months of age 21 years ago this past February 20th..like your precious son he had also had a cold, just had shots 2 days before he died and was also teething. .His official cause of death was classified as “SIDs” but he did have mucus in his lungs from a cold.. My heart breaks for you. I was only 22 when he died and my life has been forever changed. Time does help BUT some days are still JUST as horrible as that very FIRST day..The things and feelings you write about describe everything I have felt and still feel.. I still beat myself up constantly and go over and over the what ifs..Like your son, my sweet boy passed on a Sunday mornings and even now I can close my eyes and remember every chilling detail of finding him..God Bless you and your family. .thanks so much for sharing your story. It really does help some to know we are not alone..

Oh no I am so so sorry to hear your little boy passed. William chest infection caused an abscess in his lung which ruptured causing catastrophic Septicemia. It is just so heartbreaking to know how avoidable it was. I can’t imagine how you must feel having to accept SIDS as the cause xxx

So many tears and heartache for you and your sweet lil baby boy. Please forge on and if you are willing and able, keep sharing so you can hopefully let go of some of the pain so we can help you shoulder it alongside you. You are an amazing woman and mother and nothing can ever change that. ❤ ❤

Are you questioning WHY you sweet baby was given a vaccination when he had been struggling with an illness for so many months? The package inserts of the shots so clearly state not to administer when ill!

i just read this and cannot stop crying. The tears are constantly flowing. This may be the hardest I’ve ever cried in my life. I have a son name Reid. He is 13 months old, we also share our birthday, like you and William. I don’t even know why I am commenting, other than to say I am so sorry for your pain. My son is napping now and I am continually checking on him. He was sick all last week, is better this week, but just got 4 shots today at his 1 year check up with the doctor. Needless to say I am a worried wreck now. I wish I could do something to take your pain away. Even an ounce of it. Anything. I found your blog through the exclusive pumping group on facebook. I am from Texas. I will be continually sending you thoughts and prayers. I hope that God is giving you some strength. You will see your little angel again someday and he will be so happy to see his mama.

I feel your pain, Mama. I too am a mother without a child, it has been three years since the nightmare of losing Asher began, and while the intensity of the pain has softened, it remains ever present, requiring attention every day. Holding your broken heart in mine as you walk through these worst of days. Much love to you.

Dear Melissa, I’m in floods of tears reading your blog entries. So much tragedy in life which is incomprehensible. I am so deeply sorry for the loss of your gorgeous, precious little boy. What a darling little treasure. Every day must be a complete nightmare for you and I hope that you may find some comfort from writing these beautiful posts. I wish I could write as well as you to express my sadness and give you support, although we have never met. May the love you gave your little boy, and continue to give him through your writing, keep his memory alive. I will remember you in my prayers, along with my sister-in-law who has lost 2 daughters, one just three months ago, aged 3. Also remembering my brother and other sister-in-law who lost twins at birth. It’s heartbreaking and unbelievable. My own young son has been fighting off various unexplained illnesses, viruses, coughs, fevers on and off since January and has just come out of hospital a few days ago, having been admitted rather dramatically. I was so scared. So much of your post resonated with me as seemingly innocuous symptoms can suddenly become serious alarmingly quickly. Can’t even begin to imagine the horror you’ve had to endure. I am a Christian but it’s impossible to understand how and why God would make you suffer so much. I will pray especially hard for your healing. Thank you for sharing your personal story in honour of William, an example of your obvious selflessness as a mother.

I’m so sorry to hear that your little one has been poorly too, but thankfully now recovering. Like your sister in law, you never expect for this to happen, you have tremendous fear and desire to protect your children but i don’t think a fear of them actually dying comes into it. This like you say is incomprehensible, and totally needless, which if at all possible makes it so much harder, knowing he died when he could have been saved 😦 xx

Melissa, I am a mother. It has taken me months to find the courage to actually, fully read your blog. I cant begin to imagine what it must be for you to go through this and to write about it. I am sorry you have to live through this nightmare… I pray for you to find strength… I know it will never be enough.

William is such a beautiful boy! I am deeply sorry for the tragedy of his loss. With your permission, I would like to add your blog to the website that I’ve been curating in memory of my 23 year old son who died 3 years ago. http://www.scoop.it/t/grief-and-loss
The site is comprised of blogs, articles, videos and anything I find that I think might be meaningful or helpful to bereaved parents and siblings.

I have a little boy called William too, who just had his first birthday. Thank you for sharing this. You have reminded me to never feel like an over reacting first time mum. To trust my instincts and never wholly trust the response of doctors. I am so sorry for your loss.

Your posts are all so beautifully written. Your William was a handsome boy. We lost our youngest son unexpectedly July 2, 2014. Aidan was twelve. I still can’t believe that almost a year has passed. It still seems unreal to me. This journey is unimaginable unless you are actually living it. Keep writing. A wise gentleman I met told me he still writes 35 years after his daughter’s death. Although I’ve always enjoyed writing, I started a journal the day Aidan died and haven’t stopped since.

I’m sorry to hear you lost Aiden, that is so so tragic. I have found it quite cathartic writing, and feel like it’s somewhere I can write my thoughts without judgement, thank you for your lovely comments, take care

I am so sorry to hear of your loss. I just stumbled across your blog via your recent post, and the strength you have to be sharing these feelings with the world in this way is incredible. I hope this manages to spread some awareness to other mother’s to trust their instincts and knock down the doctor’s door if they’re not being heard. I’ll keep you and your gorgeous little boy in my prayers xx

I quite literally stumbled upon your blog via twitter – the power of social media – and feel such horrendous sadness and anger at the appalling care your beautiful son received. As parents we rely upon and place our faith in GPs and other medics and I know only too well that they can get it wrong. My son is now 4, but I spent the first 3 1/2 years of his life hyper vigilant as he suffered from serious asthma (touch wood all fine for six months now but I know he will relapse and I am terrified). I can still terrifyingly recall one night when i was awoken at 1.30am to the sound of his laboured breathing. His lips were blue and I immediately called for an ambulance. He was less than 1 year old. I was frantic and pleaded with the call handler to explain CPR to me in case he stopped breathing. She refused to help me and told me to ask again if he stopped breathing!! I screamed down the phone that I could not do CPR and hold a mobile phone at the same time. Still, she refused to help me!! The ambulance arrived just in time to save him, but what developed thereafter was systematic poor medical care through the CCG. The last occasion was December (2014) when during an acute asthma attack, he was taken to hospital by ambulance, only to be discharged despite being seriously symptomatic of being in an acute asthma attack. He was 3 years old. I had to phone for a second ambulance that evening as he was struggling to breath in his sleep. The care on the children’s ward was simply appalling – this is the same CCG where numerous babies have died. On another occasion, a GP sent my baby home with a temp of 41…and I was also told I was a neurotic mother for being concerned. Needless to say, several hours later he was hospitalised as he was in the throes of an acute asthma attack, missed by a lousy GP, yet again. I could cite other examples, but the point is, you are not alone.

It seems to me that the life of a child is often defined as ‘cheap’ by the medical profession. Moreover, due to the way in which medical negligence claims work and the way in which doctors are protected by the GMC, I doubt many fear reproach. This has to change!! Babies and children are vulnerable and require the medical profession’s full attention and diagnostic expertise. I only wish I could find some words to comfort you. I know I cannot, as I have feared losing my own little boy far too many times now and I could not imagine life without him. I am sorry this happened to William xx

I am so sorry to hear that your little boy is poorly and suffers so badly, and regularly. I too suffer with chronic asthma, it was worse when I was younger, the added stress of fear in a young child only serves to exacerbate the problem. It is such a sad situation where your son is allowed to deteriorate to such a point until they act.

We as parents take responsibility for our children, after all they are our lives, our future. I am still sat here in disbelief that this has actually happened. IT doesn’t feel real, and doesn’t seem real. I don’t think I will ever learn to live with it, because, simply, I don’t want to xx

I am so very sorry for your loss. I have a young son and I can’t even imagine. My heart goes out to you…

I would like to speak with you about raising sepsis awareness. I work with a company developing a diagnostic test to detect sepsis infection in 3-5 hours, which could potentially save lives. Part of the challenge is that people don’t know what sepsis even is, so we need to educate the public about sepsis. One way we are doing that is by sharing real-life stories of people who have been affected by sepsis.

My contact information is below, and I can provide more details.

Again, I’m sorry for your loss, and I think what you are doing to help educate others is admirable.

I read your story via the sepsis trust on facebook. Utterly heartbreaking!
You are such a brave lady and I take my hat off to you.

I too have experienced the sudden loss of a child in a similar way and so can understand the pain and suffering you might feel. The worst day of a parents life is losing a child, but to think there may have been even a small chance things could be different, is what tears you apart every day. My daughter was 9yrs old and died on Christmas day from septicaemia. Life for me will never be the same and I will fight till the end for answers.

I hope to continue reading your blog for comfort and inspiration and I hope you get the outcome you deserve.
Sending you lots of love and warm wishes.

Dear Melissa, I have just read the article about William on the Mailonline website and am sitting here in tears. I am truly heartbroken for you. You were and still are a wonderful mother to your beautiful, amazing little boy. I wish I could find words to offer you some comfort, but I do truly hope that your pain lessens in time and that you find happiness again in your life.

I’m so sorry for your child death. I wish there were something I could do. Your story is one of many that REALLY makes me angry with those doctors who don’t take patients seriously and leave it up for the chance! I hope the death of your child makes a different. Please spread your story!

Hi Melissa,
I am deeply sorry for the loss of your gorgeous baby.
I have just read your article in the daily mail and then read on your blog and I’m sitting on a packed train feeling like I’ve read my own thoughts. Almost every thing you have said I can relate to and how losing your son and the trauma that ensues unfortunately I can also relate too. My son died in 2012, due to herpes simplex similarly to sepsis not enough medical vigilance was applied and he died due to a series of blunders and like yourself, I carried him down to the mortuary with his blanket because I didn’t want him to be scared or cold. In addition to this I also felt the overwhelming feeling of anger & despair from weeks before buying a baby cot and now having to find a baby coffin and holding your dead child in your arms is a pain so excruciating that only a mother without a child can ever understand. I too have been working with the NHS to raise awareness by doing speeches, creating medical tools to help doctors diagnose more reactively and created a poster that is due to go live in the coming months. I would love to talk with you as I feel as if I would be talking to myself and I feel maybe I can help with your awareness campaign as I have met many wonderful doctors in the NHS that have helped me get this far. I’m not on FB so please email me directly. My thoughts and heart go out to you.

I am in tears, I don’t even know what to say. May God give you the strength and the patience to bear this humongous loss. I can not even imagine what you must be going through but may it become easy for u amen.

I have just read your post and the tears still running down my cheeks. English is not my mother tongue and I am not good at writing so forgive me if I do not express myself correctly. But I wanted to let you know i feel your pain and pray for you. This life is just a veil and beautiful William is just behind it, happy, an angel that touched your life and will be there for you at the other side iA. Your love is beyond this realm I can feel it not knowing you not being near you so please hold on to it tight. I wish there was something to help you ease your pain…I can only hope the thought of how many of us you have touched sharing your story and how many other kids will be saved because of your as you put it ultimate sacrifice will bring some kind of comfort to your heart.
Sending you love